


Good Kids Can Go To Hell

by Anamakorga



Series: The New Candyman [1]
Category: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - All Media Types
Genre: And Lesbian Violet Bearegarde, Augustus Gloop is a Good-Natured Sweetheart He's Just Also a Dumbass, Bisexual Mike Teavee, Cannon-Compliant Up To Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, Cut Them All Some Slack, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Getting Charlie Bucket to Commit A Crime (TM) Requires Rolling a Natural 20, I Will Fight You For Asexual Charlie Bucket, Kind of like the Murdery Chocolate Children, Like Miles, M/M, Meddling Kids, Mike Teavee is Too Tall For the Constant Bisexual Distress He Is Under, Miles of Slack, None of These Kids Was Older than 11, Not Only Is Veruca Salt a Little Shit - Veruca Knows and Uses It To Her Advantage, Not the Chocolate Children, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Veruca Was Six Cut Her Some Slack, Violet Beauregarde is Done With Everyone and Kicks Ass Because of It, Well - Freeform, in fact
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 07:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20131654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anamakorga/pseuds/Anamakorga
Summary: Charlie Bucket plans a murder.It does not go well.





	Good Kids Can Go To Hell

It is one thing when a child is punished for being a brat. It is entirely another when care for a child’s wellbeing, as well as their mental and physical states go entirely out the window for the purpose of teaching the little hooligans a lesson. Perhaps the best example of this is the Golden Ticket Incident, during which eccentric multimillionaire Willy Wonka released five “Golden Tickets” inside of candy bars into the world. As the world always does when it finds competition, it rose to the challenge and candy sales spiked. Just when it seemed the tickets were all a hoax, the first one was found by a nine-year-old German boy by the name of Augustus  Gloop . Augustus had been eating the chocolate obsessively ever since the tickets were announced, and it became even more apparent that in order to win a ticket, one would have to buy massive numbers of candy bars, and it was not three days before the next ticket was found by a middle-aged man whose full-time job was shelling peanuts. He worked for a man with a  spoilt brat of a daughter who had demanded she have a ticket, so of course she got it . The six-year-old got everything she wanted, and that included the ticket, as it was turned in and handed to her immediately. The third ticket was found in New York City by a preteen girl (who was really a gum-chewer), and the fourth by a ten-year-old who was obsessed with television. The fifth was found by a small English boy  who had bought a grand total of three chocolate bars, and everyone else felt just a little cheated by him.

Five children walked into a chocolate factory and four came out, each one with a body that should have left them rightfully dead. The fifth – Charlie Bucket – has yet to come out, and it’s very nearly impossible to tell whether he’s still alive or not. He’ll come back into the picture later.

Augustus  Gloop , the boy who had won a ticket first, was made almost entirely of fudge. Almost, in that the outside of him was coated in a chocolate that had been shiny and smooth five years ago when he had stumbled from the boiler room, sobbing tearlessly. His feet had  come in contact with the boiler room floor (a mistake he’d never let happen again) and begun to melt, so now he is left with only half the soles of his shoes. Over the years the glossy coating has worn down as well, leaving him a very dull shade of brown. He has lost three fingers in various incidents, and he shall never let anything come anywhere near his left temple, for there is a hole cut straight out of it, and it is dreadfully painful to the touch.

Violet Beauregard e , though she was the third to get her ticket, was the second to have the other children behold her downfall. Violet came out of the factory with every part of her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, a different shade of purple or blue. For the first couple of years afterwards, she was a bendable mess, barely able to keep herself upright and in constant pain, always sick to her stomach as her limbs contorted around her and she had so little control over them. She’s mostly in control now, but if she were to give up the effort of keeping her legs beneath her, she would no doubt crumple into a heap of flesh on the ground.

Veruca Salt,  not ticket-finder but ticket- receiver , understands she had it the easiest as she gazes disgusted  and almost nauseous a t her reflection in the mirror. The ones on her face are hypertrophic, they tell her. The ones on the right side of her are mostly contracture scars, and she’ll have to go to physical therapy for them, so that it’s not as hard to move. Veruca can’t be where it’s hot. There’s nothing stopping her physically, but whenever she gets near anywhere warm, she remembers being stuck in the incinerator, vomiting her guts out and having her skin burn until it doesn’t hurt anymore, and feels the panic building in her chest. She stays inside during the summer months, holed up in her room with half a dozen fans pointed at her.

Mike  Teavee was the finder of the fifth golden ticket, and when he came out of the factory, he was assaulted with questions of how he was still alive, because he had been stretched, and now he was nine and a half feet tall. His long arms were thin and sticklike, and he towered over the surrounding crowd , t oo tall to just sneak through the masses and still not imposing enough to get them away so he can take a moment to think. His entire body aches and his head is spinning, and he struggles with getting back into the car, or back into his room, where he spends most of his days now, absently scrolling through varied social media on his phone.

Our story starts with a letter – a letter written by one Charlie Bucket, a letter written on yellow parchment paper, a letter written as a desperate cry for help. A letter that was sent to each of the four children who lost Willy Wonka’s little competition, because for all the questions asked on the day of the Golden Ticket Incident, very few of them were answered. So the world went along with idolizing one William Westley Wonaka. Charlie sent the letter out to the winners of the golden tickets because it went like this:

_ My fellow ticketeer, _

_ I hope you are doing well, or at least as well as you can with your condition. I can only imagine that life is very difficult. Unfortunately I have another difficult thing to ask of you. Perhaps during your time at the factory it occurred to you that Mr. Wonka is an odd sort. The kind of person who tries to put out that they are being really very nice but isn’t at all. And you’re all rather regrettably completely correct. Which is why I’ve decided that I need to kill Mr. Wonka. I am attaching two tickets for the flight over to the chocolate factory. Please be here by 8 A.M. on July 16 _ _ th _ _ . I have a plan, but not the stomach or the heart to carry it out. It shouldn’t be hard. All I’m hoping is that these letters aren’t intercepted – I’m in desperate need of some assistance, and if the old man finds out I plan to dispose of him and finally get out of this wretched abomination of a factory, I’ll likely end up with a fate worse than death. I do believe I’ve been on his good side though lately, and I hope I’m not entirely out of line in saying that I’ll be able to get these letters out on my weekly walk around the factory. I recogn _ _ ise _ _ that we aren’t by any means on good terms, of course. We were hardly on good terms when we met each other. But in order to properly stage this murder (seeing as the very word makes me sick to the stomach) I’ll need assistance, and quite a bit of it. I hope at least one of you can come, and not just to chew  _ _ me _ _ out, either. I hope I can even get this letter out. _

_ Your (Potential) friend,  _

_ Charlie Bucket _


End file.
